If Normalcy is for Squares, Then I'm a Circle
by Jamie All Over
Summary: A Marauder era fic, revolving around Jamie Rowan, the Charlatans, and the Marauders as they go through their seventh year in school, and fall in and out of love. Warnings-Sexual situations, odd terminology, language, and violence.
1. Still So Young

**If Normalcy is for Squares, Then I'm a Circle**

**-J.R. Chandler**

**Disclaimer: Dude, seriously, I wish I was J.K. Rowling. But I'm not. So Obviously I don't own anything that she's already made up. And all of the chappie titles are credited to Panic at the Disco's lyracist, Ryan Ross. The OC's, however, are mine. **

**Warnings: (I'll only post these ONCE.) Hairy cows (aka sexual situations-I never understood lemons) in later Parts, language, a bit of violence, and a whole lot of my kind of slang (ie: funkadellic, heeby-jeeby, coinage, etc.). If you can't understand, look them up online. **

**Pairings: A bunch, but mostly OC/SB, OC/RL, LE/JP, OC/PP, and OC/OC. Dig those OC's.**

* * *

_Greg: Darling, I believe this may call for a proper introduction._

_Jamie: Well, don't you see? I'm the narrorator, and this is just the prologue._

_Greg: Swear to shake it up?_

_Jamie: If you swear to listen. Hehe, Sorry, Panic was playing..._

* * *

_Jamie: Hello all! I'm the author, Jamie All Over. This is my first fic, so please reveiw and let me know if I suck or not! This is my -cough- friend, Greg, who writes with me._

_Greg: I heard that cough, what was _that_ supposed to mean?_

_Jamie: Nothing, dearest. Shoo._

_Greg: -grumbles- See if I help you again..._

_Jamie: And this is my beta, FallenPooka, or Fallen as I call her. Say hi, Fallen!_

_Fallen: I just made a new trend in fashion. Ain't I a sex bomb? YESH! I is. -teehee-_

_Jamie: Okay... Well, here it is!_

* * *

**Part One: Prologue**

**Chapter One: Still So Young**

Finally. After waiting for two months, it was here. Spinning in front of the hotel bathroom mirror, I carefully pulled a grey-and-yellow feather from my left shoulder. (Mother had bought me a cockatiel for my tenth birthday, named Fawkes. Not sure where she got the name, but it's pretty cool anyway.) I turned and shook my butt at the mirrow, and my hand-made puplre-and-orange-plaid pleated skirt shook with it. Not a bad looking butt either, considering I was just nearing eleven.

You see, today is the first day of school for us. By "us," I mean Melissa Lynn Rowan, and myself, Jamie Renee Rowan. And by "school,' I mean this wonky boarding school where adolescents go to learn magic. Yeah, magic. Just when you start to think that it's all kiddie-stuff, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry sends you a letter saying that because you're about to turn eleven, you need to begin your magical education.  
Even more unbelievable-it's actually a real place. Honest. My mum, apparently, is a witch, and not only in the mean, "I'm watching you out of the back of my head," creepy mum way. Not even dear old Dad knew until Melly and I got our letters. Evidently, she works "undercover" for some far-out "Ministry of Magic," and in addition to working at the gas company, she was also reporting "unexplainable gas explosions" to them, therefore living like a "Muggle" for the last fifteen years.

So, now, three months before we're set to be eleven, we're staying in this sweet pub/hotel combo called The Leaky Cauldron in London, while Madre y Padre are taking a very relaxing cruise to Spain. Dad needed to get over the whole "my-wife-of-thirteen-years-is-a-witch" thing.

Tom, the groovy barkeep, had actually known my mum while they themselves had attended Hogwarts, and had offered to look after us for the last month of summer break. Isn't he such a sweetheart? He even closed the pub down for an hour to show us how to get into Diagon Alley, or wizard's London, and take us to the heeby-jeeby goblin-run wizard's bank known as Gringot's to help us get out a bundle of funkadellic coinage. He took us over for ice cream afterwords, and gave us our school lists, telling us to have fun, get our stuff, and explained the value of aforementioned funkadellic coinage. Before leaving, he told us to stay in either the Cauldron or Diagon Alley, and not to wander to muggle London.

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Being the animal lovers that we are, we headed straight to the Magical Menagerie, a pet shop we had passed on the way back from the bank. I had received Fawkes for our birthday, and Melissa had gotten a little brown gerbil, but the idiot had snuck out of it's cage a few months ago and chewed through the cords to my record player. Which I got blamed for, of course. So, naturally, she was looking for a new pet. We had been the average middle-class family back in reality, but apparently the Ministry had been depositing large sums of money into our account in this world for the last fifteen years, so new pets were definitely a must in our adolescent minds.

We had walked around the little shop together for a minute, but then Melissa went wandering off on her own while I perused the double-ended newts and the (completely groovy) poisonous orange snails.

When I went over to Melissa, she was stroking a pretty white bunny on it's velveteen ears. As soon as I was within a few feet of Melissa, though, the rabbit popped and became a black silk top hat.

Melissa turned and shot daggers at me, so I took a few steps back. The bunny had popped back into one and was rubbing against her hand again.

Needless to say, I couldn't stop her from buying him. Not a bad price, either-only ten galleons for a funky bunny-it's a bargain for you.

So while Melissa had been buying supplies for Houdini, as she had begun calling him, I decided to figure out what was causing the humming noise that had been resonating throughout the shop.

What I found were these (absolutely adorable) custard-coloured fluffballs in a cage.

The sticker on the cage said that they were a sub-breed of puffskeins (what the...?), and they were called Humpuffs. Really, you'd think that they could come up with a more creative name. It also said that, while they were very friendly and would become close to a good owner, they needed another of their kind to, you know, keep them company and talk, or hum, with them. They were compatible with all sorts of birds, but not mammals, as they were very low on the food chain.

Hey, they liked birds, Fawkes would need company while I was in class, and they were real cute.

So, I obtained gniP and gnoP, my male and female humpuffs, respectively. The shopkeep had told me that they could live in Fawkes' cage, sold me a bag of food, and threw in a complementary paphlette about them.

After our expedition in the Menagerie, we decided that we needed to go school shopping. We picked up our cauldrons first, as our bags were full (gniP and gnoP were in a box tucked inside my messeger bag, and Houdini was tied to Melissa's backpack and was presently poking his head out).

The robe shop was definitely interesting. While I was being fitted for my (boring) black school robes, Melissa had wandered around the shop and found a gorgeous sapphire winter cloak. I told her that it was quite obviously _begging_ for her to buy it, and it wasn't as if she was going to be in serious trouble for have a blue winter cloak instead of a black one, right?

So, while Melly was being fitted, I decided to try my luck. There was a really awesome turquiouse cloak, but it didn't come in midget sizes. It wasn't until I went to the back of the shop and looked in a clearance rack that I found it.

Left over from '67, if Madam Malkin was right, was a rainbow tie-dyed winter cloak with (squee) aubergine fastenings in (almost) my size. It was just a tad bit too long, so Madam Malkin took up the hem a little. She actually had laughed when I showed Melissa, saying that she had tried to sell that for years, but the wizarding world had never caught on to the tie-dye craze, which only made me need it more.

At Flourish & Blotts, we were lost. Not that we didn't know our way around every bookstore in England, but that was in the muggle world, and this store was wonked out. After picking up our schoolbooks, Melly purchased a book (with moving, talking pictures!) that instructed you on how to "Draw and Paint the Muggle Way." As for myself, I found a fictional series on a "squib" who had to go to a muggle boarding school school for seven years and defeat the evil Prime Minister. Intriguing, no?

After collecting all of our ingriediants from the Apothecary (which was a kind of creepy place), we only needed wands.

Before stopping at the (evidently) famous Ollivander's, we dropped off our things at the Cauldron and made sure that our new pets were happy.

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At Ollivander's, well, the vibes border-lined somewhere between cozy library and creepy stalker's bedroom. But Mr. Ollivander was pretty cool. Apparently, he rembered Mum, and told us all about her wand while measuring between our noses and down our arms.

Asking for my "wand arm," I gave him my left hand, as I figured "wand arm/ dominant arm, same/diff. He handed me a stick from a thin box and told me to give it a wave. I did as told, and Melissa's knees buckled and she fell down. I dropped the wand and helped her up, not even attampting to contain the random spurts of laughter as I apologized profusely.

The it was Melly's turn to try a wand. Waving her right arm, she managed to give me a (rather impressive) black eye. Going back and forth, we each tried wands and each gave the other a (usually) minor injury before having the wand snatched away.

After receiving a lovely nosebleed from yours truly, Melissa dearest took another from Mr. Ollivander and waved it, and a fountain of flower petals fell from the tip of her wand to the floor.

So, Melissa acquired an eight-and-a-half incher, made of rowan-wood, containing one silvery unicorn hair.

After that, the next two wands I waved didn't do a freaking thing. I was going to give up, telling Mr. Ollivander that, obviously, my magic was out. He put a bit of thought into it, and carefully chose another box. "Alright Jamie, try this one, and if it doesn't work, we'll stop. This is rowan-wood, seven-and-a-quarter inches long, and home to a heart-string collected from a dragon in Spain."

Cringing slightly at the thought of the poor Spanish dragon having his heartstring ripped out, I reluctantly took the wand. I gave the occasion my best let's-just-get-this-over-with sigh (I'd been working on that), and flicked my wrist.

For my angsty attitude, I was rewarded with a new wand and a shower of dark chocolate truffles. Man, if being a surly teenager meant getting little chunks of heaven, then I was in! Bending down, I picked up a truffle, unwrapped it, and proudly popped it into my mouth.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"_**Jamie!**_ Let me in the bathroom!" a voice shrieked, slightly muffled by the cheap faux-wood door that so kindly separated me from my spazzy twin-sister. Accompanying Melissa's sweet loving voice was a kind, gentle banging on the aforementioned door.

I blew a kiss to the me in the mirror and (reluctantly) opened to door, promptly startling my twin. She stared, frustrated, at my wardrobe for the day.

"Couldn't you at least _pretend_ to be normal, at least for the day?" she pleaded, already slightly embarrassed. "Just for the day? Please?"

"Oh, pshaw!" I retorted, waving my hand. "Dear Melissa, normalcy is only for the squares who believe that normal is anything more than an OCD's happy place. But you and I, love, are not squares, nor delusional enough to believe in this whole normal thing. If anything, we are circles." I told her. With a grin and a wolfish wink (for good measure), I added, "Besides, I wouldn't want to give a bad first impression to the people who have to deal with me for seven years."

Melissa simply laughed and rolled her eyes, heading into the bathroom. She was used to me by now, and even had her own non-sensical ramblings on occasion.

Although, she _might_ have had reason for the (admittedly bonkers) outburst of pretending to be normal. My outfit for the day was one that had been in the workshop (a.k.a. my sewing box) for a month. Hey, you couldn't;t find awesome clothes just anywhere!

I had discovered thigh-high stockings at Madam Malkin's, oddly enough. One was white with orange stripes, the other white with aubergine (single greatest colour known to man). I know, they don't match, but matching socks were for normalcy-believing squares. I think the last time I had worn them was when I was four and naive.

My shoes-Converse high-tops, one orange, one aubergine, were adorning the feet opposite their coordinating sock. Oh, how I love them, let me count the ways...

My glove had been acquired at a drugstore back near Sussex, and had originally come with fingers. But those were now decomposing in a landfill somewhere, as I had opted for awesomeness and created a bum glove of it. It was simply white, and covered from my left wrist to my elbow. My right wrist had basic aubergine bangles, and, on my ring-finger, a paperclip had been wound.

My shirt, at least, was almost not-crazy. It was a plain white tee when I bought it. I just took some extra plaid fabric from my skirt and cut out "The Beatles" to sew across the chest.

Okay, I know, call me a freak.Whatever. Like I haven't heard _that_ a million times in my life.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I walked over to my bed, fastened on my new cloak (it was chilly and overcast today), and rummaged through my trunk for cockatiel and humpuff treats. Upon finding them, I lured gniP and gnoP into my bird traveling case. Fawkes nibbled on a Biscuit-O while I fixed her yellow harness and leash on her before putting her in the case as well.

Melissa came out of the bathroom, and, I must say, I was proud. She had on her school unifor, yes, but instead of icky grey socks, she was wearing not only the matches to my stockings, but to my shoes as well. She held up her left fist, proudly displaying her paperclip ring, and lifted my right fist to meet hers. We had made those in primary school, and always wore them on special occasions.

"Ready to go?" she asked, smiling and fastening her sapphire cloak.

I grinned. "As ready as I'll ever be."

Grabbing our pets, we locked arms and went down to meet Tom.

"Are your trunks packed, girls?" he asked in a very parental tome.

"Oh, of course Tom!" we replied in unison.

"Well, I'll have Herbert load them up for us then," he said, nodding to a large man who headed upstairs. "While he's doing that, how about a coffee for each of the young ladies?"

"Yes, please!"

* * *

_Greg: Well, that was...how shall I say it? Girly? Cliche?_

_Jamie: It was just fine, thank you. I'll leave it to any readers to decide if they liked it. You guys see that OK button down there? Click it, and all of my wildest dreams will come true..._


	2. Desperate For Attention

_Jamie: Okay, well, here's the next one. There's going to be four chappies in the prologue, none of them very much longer than this._

_Greg: C'mon, Jamie, they need _length_!_

_Jamie: Well, they'll be longer in the main part of the story! Enjoy!_

* * *

**Part One: Prologue**

**Chapter Two: Desperate For Attention**

* * *

On the train, at long last. We only had to deal with London Traffic, wander around King's Cross with an absurdly-dressed Tom, and run through a brick wall to get here nearly too late. We had given Tom a hug and he had charmed our trunks to follow us to a compartment.

I felt quite pathetic, seeing as the train was taking off and Melly and I were still in the hallway, searching for a compartment. There were no more empty compartments and by the time we made it to the last one, we gave up hope. There was two compartments here one on each side. On the left there were five boys, on the right, five girls, with room for only one more in each.

Sighing, we nodded to each other, tapping our be-ringed fists, and opened the compartment doors.

I had chosen the boys. Lucky Melissa.

"Hi,"I said in a cheerful tone. "Mind if I pull up some leather? The rest of the train's full."

The five of them looked up at me, and a black-haired boy had the nerve to chuckle. Another, rather toned, boy with coffee brown hair stood and smiled.

"Hi, I'm Jon Hilliker, let me help you with that..." he said, lifting my trunk with ease to put it with the others. He sat down by the window and scooted over so I could join him.

"I smiled at the gentleman-like gesture and, secretly, at the American accent, and took the proffered seat.

"Hey, I'm Jamie Rowan, pleased to meet you all." A quick look around the compartment made me feel very young very quickly. "Mmm, lemme guess," I laughed, "I'm the only first year out of the group..."

"Ah, but you would be very wrong if you guessed that," came the voice of a tired, sandy-haired boy. "Actually, we're all first years here."

A bespectacled boy with wild black hair smiled at me. "I'm James Potter. That," he pointed to the sandy-haired boy, "is Remus Lupin, the nervous blonde there is Peter Pettigrew, and this is-"

"Sirius Black, at your, " interrupted the black-haired boy who had laughed when I came in as he eyeballed my figure, "service, m'lady."

I gave them all a big smile and a "Hi."

Sirius took up the introductions again, "And that weirdo next to you is Jon Hilliker, as stated, but also a Yankee and a metamorphmagi."

I turned to Jon...Or rather the seat that he had been in before it was the seat of a bubbly, pink-haired girl in a yellow jumper.

"Wha-" I started, then, before my eyes, she was Jon again. He gave me a cute smile and his crystal blue eyes twinkled.

"Do I want to know?" I asked.

Sirius barked with laughter. "I just told you-he's a weird Yankee metamorphmagi."

"Well, weird-maybe, Yankee-you can tell by the accent, but a _what?_"

Jon laughed, and Remus explained. "A metamorphmagi. He can change his appearance at will," he said, slowly and calmly.

"Oh. Umm, well, I didn't know people could do that," I admitted.

James smiled. "Muggleborn?" he asked.

"Erm...I dunno. I mean, my dad's a muggle, and my mum pretended to be one for fifteen years, so definitely muggle-raised, if not born," I told them.

Half-blood then," Peter clarified, "just like me!"

"And me," Remus siad, raising his hand briefly.

"Pure blood," chorused James and Sirius, following suit.

"No idea," Jon offered, raising his hand.

I laughed. "Eh, that's okay. So where in Ameri-"

I was cut off by a loud chirp from inside my bird carrier, followed by a nervous humming.

I looked apologetically around as all of them stared at me.

"Sorry, it's just, Fawkes has never been on a train before, and gniP and gnoP always get nervous when she chirps..." I tried to explain while taking Fawkes out to sit on my shoulder .

"Fawkes?" questioned James.

"gniP and gnoP?" asked Sirius, Remus , and Peter.

"Aww, he's kinda cool..." said Jon, stroking Fawkes' back. The rest of them stared. Again.

"She," I corrected him.

"Ah, she, then," Jon said.

They still stared.

"What? Fawkes was named by Mum, and I think it's a pretty nifty-rad name. gniP and gnoP are just Ping and Pong, but backwards," I pulled them out as I said this, and Fawkes hopped over to Jon's hand. "They made me think of fluffy ping pong balls," I explained.

"He _is_ kinda cool...Can I hold him?" asked

"Her. Yeah, you can. This is gnoP," I corrected him and set her carefully in his hands.

Hey! Can I see gniP if Peter has gnoP?" Sirius asked, suave attitude gone.

"Yeah. Careful, though," I said, handing the male fluffball over.

"So, you do know where your mum got that name, right?" James asked, nonchalant as ever.

"What, Fawkes? Nope. I just thought it was a cool name, and we didn't know she was girl when we named her. Why?"

"Well, 'cause Fawkes is the name of the headmaster's pheonix."

It ws my turn to stare now. "Erm, James...There's no such thi-"

"Yes there is. Muggles usually don't see them, though," cut in Jon. "They aren't native to Europe and they fly too quickly for anyone to see unless they had been concentrating. And any muggles who do see them put it off to an overactive imagination," he explained, still paying attention to Fawkes.

"How would you know?"" I demanded.

"Haven't you ever read all of those kid's stories before?" he asked, not bothering to look up from the cockatiel.

"Well, yeah, but those are all make-believe. They aren't true."

"Everything is based on something." he said, rather finally.

Fawkes suddenly decided that she wanted to wake up the half-asleep Remus by flying into him before I could grab her leash.

The startled Remus caught her and had her perched on his finger quickly. He made cooing noises at Fawkes, stroking her chest and calming her down.

"Hey Jamie," said Sirius out of nowhere and handing gniP to James, "If you're muggle raised, why are you dressed so...fantastically colourful?"

I laughed. "Well, because I want to. And because I'm Jamie Rowan. Do I need an excuse to wear my normal clothes? 'Cause this is how I usually dress, sans cloak."

Sirius gave me a wolfish grin. "That _is_ an interesting cloak-make it yourself?"

"Nope, I found it in Madam Malkin's on the clearance rack. She claims it's leftover from the 60's. The skirt and shirt are handmade, though." I told him proudly.

"Very...intriguing," the suave boy replied, winking roguishly at me.

I winked back. Eyeballing his attire-a loose leather jacket, black tee and faded jeans with a pair of Converse-I had to ask. "So, Sirius, if you're a pure blood, why are _you_ dressed like _that_?"

He laughed, "Why, because, _I _am Sirius Black."

The compartment erupted into laughter.

"So..." I started, "do you guys have any brothers or sisters that go here?"

"Only child," chimed Remus, James, and Peter, slightly raising their hands.

"An annoying twit of a younger brother, but he hasn't started yet," Sirius replied dully.

"Umm...Only child," said Jon, "but my cousin, Allison, is right across the hall in the other compartment."

"My twin sister is over there, too," I added in.

"Really?" asked James, getting a bit excited. "Is she the one with red hair?"

"Nope, the tall blonde one," Jon told him, slightly apologetic.

James looked at me hopefully.

"Well, Melissa and I are fraternal, but she's got dirty blonde hair like mine."

James looked so put down that I had to offer. "But I can go find out who she is, if you like..."

"Pretty, pretty, pretty please?" he begged.

Well, I couldn't ignore that cute, hopeful little face, could I? I shrugged off my cloak. "Okay, give me a minute," I said walking towards the sliding door. "I'll be back, don't lose my pets, okay?"

"Got it!" answered James, ever eager.

I walked across the hall and knocked on the door as I pulled it open. Upon entrance, giggles erupted.

"Oh, look! You guys are wearing matching socks and shoes!" said a tall blonde girl in a very southern America accent.

I gave her a garish smile and sat down on my twin's lap, though she was a bit skinnier than me.

"So this year, I've been extra good, so I want a pony for Christmas!" I said to her like a child on Father Christmas' lap.

She shoved me off and scooted over for me to sit down. "So did you just want to get away from the testosterone, or did you need chocolate?" my lovely twin asked of me.

"Well, I definitely won't say no to any chocolate, but the guys are way more exciting and talkative than this quiet group," I replied, looking around. "Hi everyone, I'm crazy and sometimes just a bit Jamie," I told them with a garish smile. The other girls laughed.

The southern blonde-Jon's cousin-spoke up first. "Hi, I'm Allie Turner, Jon's-"

"Cousin, so I've heard," I finished.

"Yeah," she laughed.

"I'm Miranda Trelawney, pleased to meet you," said a very pretty brunette next to Allie.

"Pleasure's all mine, I'm sure," I replied.

"Alice Cooke, third year," smiled a tawney-haired girl sitting next to me.

"Glenda Thomas, also third year," said a dark-skinned girl on Alice's other side.

Only the mysterious redhead was left, but her nose was stuck in a book.

"So, what are you reading, dollface?" I asked her.

After a moment, she realized that I was talking to her. "Oh, erm...Of Mice and Men b-" she began.

"By John Steinbeck, great book, sad ending," I told her, nodding. "Do I get the privelidge of knowing my fellow book junkie's name?"

"Oh, erm, Lily Evans." she stammered.

"Pleased to meet you Lily. That's a lovely flower, and a lovely name for a lovely girl," I said, smiling kindly. This girl was a nervous wreck.

"Umm...is Severus over in that compartment, by any chance?" she asked me hopefully.

"Erm, nope. We have James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, and Jon Hilliker besides myself. I didn't meet a Severus, but I can go check if he was in there before I arrived, if you like," I told her, slightly apologetic.

"Really? Would you?"

A loud chirp came from across the hall.

"Well, I have some work to do, and my baby is calling, so I'll see you guys around," I said, bumping Melissa's fist with my own on the way out.


	3. Wet Dream For The Webzines

**Part One: Prolouge**

**Chapter Three: Wet Dream For The Webzines**

"Fawkes, what is it, honey?" I asked my poor cockatiel as she flew to my shoulder. I glared at the boys.

"Nothing's wrong, she just missed you," volunteered James. "So, what's her name?"

"Lily Evans, she's a first year, too. And she asked about a Severus. Wanted to know if he had been in here," I told them, taking back my seat.

Sirius laughed at James, as he was in dreamland, softly saying "Lily Evans" under his breath. "Hey! James! Snap out of it!" shouted Sirius sharply, snapping the bespectecled boy back into reality. "She wants to know about Snivellus, would you care to tell her or shall I?"

James laughed, "Why do you-Oh. Lily wants to know..." he said, comprehension dawning. "Well, that weird, greasy, bit of dung tried to hang in here, but he pissed us off, so we kicked him out," said James vehemently, "Why does Lily want to know?"

"I dunno, hang on," I said, taking Fawkes back across the hall with me.

Melissa had Houdini out, now, and, sure enough, he was a top-hat before I had both feet through the door. The little beast hated me, and the feeling was mutual.

"Lily! Oi! Lily Evans!" I shouted, distracting her, once again, from her book. "In their words, 'Snivellus, that weird, greasy, bit of dung tried to sit in here, but he pissed us off, so we kicked him out,'" I informed her, doing a rather good, I beleive, impression of James. "And the Mr. James Potter would like to know why you care, and, inwardly, will you go out with him?"

The compartment burst into laughter as Lily, already red-faced from James' words, began to blush so furiously that her face matched her hair.

"Well, will you please inform Mr. Potter that Severus is my _friend_, and not a bloody chance in hell!" she said angrily.

I shrugged. "You got it, Evans." I waved to the rest of them, "See you guys when we get there."

I re-entered my compartment and relayed Lily's messege.

"And, a definite no, not a bloody chance in hell, in her words, on the matter of going out with you, James, dear," I concluded.

"You asked her that?! Why you little...!" he shouted, tackling me.

I had my feet up under his torso, and was about to kick him off when, out of nowhere, he kind of floated off of me. He was supported by none other than Jon, who put him on the floor next to me, hands behind his back, with a large Converse-clad foot holding his arms there.

"You should apologize," the muscular boy said quietly. "She was only trying to help."

I, like an idiot and damsel-in-distress, just stared. Until, quite ferociously, my tomboy pride smacked me upside the head. I jumped up.

"Yeah, you should, you pig!" I yelled at James. When a muffled "Sorry" came from him, Jon helped him back up and into his seat. Jon sat down as well.

"Well, I feel violated," I declared as I sat down next to Jon again. "First I get tackled for being awesome, then my right to defend myself is totally stripped away by some chauvenist. I'm surrounded by pigs." At this, I glared menacingly at my unwanted rescuer.

"Whoa, sorry I tried to help!" he said defensively. "I was taught to always help out a lady in danger-integrity comes with the whole black-belt thing."

"Well I was _about_ to kick the skinny little bit of nothing into next Thursday, but apparently, a "lady" is too delicate to defend herself. Sure glad I'm nowhere near being one!" I shouted at him.

"Well-" he began, only to be cut off by Sirius.

"Okay! So we've resolved that Jamie can defend herself, is a woman, not a lady," he gave me a guady wink, "and that Jon will no longer help her fight scrawny twits, or anyone else, despite his good intentions!"

We all stared at him.

"What? I'm sick of the fighting. I get enough of it at home, okay?"

The conversation akwardly turned to quidditch, and Jon and I were lost. Friends again, I asked him how the Tigers were doing, and what his favourite baseball team was.

"How do you know the Tigers?" he questioned me, startled.

"Eh, I'm not into soccer, and our radio picks up one of the AM stations that the games are broadcasted on, so I rather favour them," I calmly explained.

He looked at me, then started in on how, since he was from Chicago originally, the Cubs were his favourite. We kept talking, and got into another arguement, but a little more friendly ths time.

"Dude, man, the Yankees are all buttholes! The Mets are _so_ much better!" I said, daringly.

"No way! The Mets are terrible! The Yanks win at least twice as often!" he replied, defensively.

"Yeah, but at least the Mets don't just buy the best players! They actually try!" I came back.

"But-" he jerked his head towards the rest of the compartment, who were all watching us fight, and it appeared that Melissa had come over for a minute, and was staring as well.

"You're fighting over _what_ now?" asked Peter, as lost as James, Remus, and Sirius.

"Major League Baseball-it's an American thing," Melissa informed him.

"Oh..."

"Jeez, Jamie, I just came over to let you know that we're almost there, so you need to change. I didn't really expect a show. Anyone got popcorn?" she asked, looking around hopefully. When none appeared, she shrugged. "Anyway, everyone knows the Yanks are better stat-wise, but they buy the talent, which is unfair, so it doesn't count. Therefore, the Mets, who actually work during spring training and the rest of the season, are better. Now get changed."

And she left.

After a moment, Remus stood and pulled his robes out of his trunk, as did Peter and James. Sirius and Jon were already in theirs, and were looking at me expectantly.

"What now?" I sighed.

"Well, aren't you going to change with the girls?" Jon asked carefully.

"Or you could stay here..." Sirius offered, causing Jon and Remus to glare, James to laugh, and Peter to blush.

"I don't feel that I need to change, thank you. I really rather like my outfit," I told them defiantly.

"Well, then put you black robes over it and leave them open, instead of wearing the tie-dye. That way, everyone will be happy," Remus suggested. Smart bloke.

"Oh, fine," I agreed, digging through my mish-mashed luggage. I pulled on my black robes and sat back down after stuffing my cloak in my trunk. James, Remus, and Peter stopped what they were doing.

"What _now_?" I asked, exasperated.

"Well, turn around, will you?" James said, pulling off his shoes and unbuttoning his fly.

I rolled my eyes and shook my head, causing my long dirty-blonde hair to escape one of its low pigtails.

Sirius barked with laughter. "Maybe _you_ should, if you're so embarassed, James. Did you wear the pink briefs today, or what?"

We all began laughing along, causing James to drop his pants and expose, not pink briefs, but bright orange boxers with the Chudley Cannons logo on the leg.

I began laughing harder, and that fact that Remus and Peter were showng off their boxers-black and grey argyle and light blue with rubber duckies, respectively-didn't help much either.

While they finished changing, Sirius looked at Jon. "Well, your turn! Let's see 'em!" he demanded.

Jon laughed and dropped his pants a little, exposing black silk boxers with embroidered red Chinese dragons. He raised an eyebrow at Sirius, then, who laughed and mooned us with his black-and-white checkered silk boxers.

The compartment whooped and clapped for the two, laughing. Then Sirius rounded on me. "Your turn, dollface," he said, with a wolfish grin.

Remus and Jon, of course, looked horrified, and Peter blushed red enough to make a fire truck jealous. James chuckled a bit, as if he didn't expect anyone to take it seriously.

"That's completely un-ladyike, Sirius! Be a gentleman for once!" Remus scolded him. He turned to me," You don't have to Jamie..."

"Well, since it's un-ladylike..." I began as I lifted up my skirt, revealing a pair of short yellow boxers with Spiderman's rainbow-coloured logo on the front. I turned and shook my butt at them a second so they could see the rainbow version of Spidey's face on my rear.

I sat back down with a broad smile on my face.

"Hey, they're my favourite pair!" I told the awe-struck boys. They laughed, recovering from the shock.

"Mine too!" piped in Peter.

"Same here!" came James and Sirius.

"And here!" Jon and Remus this time.

And we were laughing as we pulled into Hogwarts station.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Then everything was a blur. I kept being told to leave my pets and luggage, but I refused. I couldn't leave my babies!

Then there were the boats. James, Remus, Sirius, and Peter were in the one next to Jon, Melissa, Allison, and I. Alice and Glenda had disappeared, and Lily was with Miranda, a greasy-haired lanky boy, and a subtly creepy and imposing platinum-blonde-haired boy on our other side.

We sailed across the huge lake, and finally arrived at the scool.

Oh, who am I kidding?

It was a bloody _castle._


End file.
